Vacation Days
by dutchrub
Summary: When Jim readies to take a vacation, rumors fly about with whom he is going. Meanwhile, Michael institutes a new bathroom policy that puts him at the top of a power pyramid. [Complete]
1. Chapter 1

**Special Notes:** This is the third installment in my own season of _The Office_. Please refer to the episode guide (the "second" chapter) for previous fics you may have missed. Same grammar rules apply as always. Also, just like to point out, I started writing this before I saw "The Carpet," so the whole vacation idea is not so novel now. But at least the writers and I are on the same page. :P

Be wary of flashbacks. I may have inserted one or two, so don't get confused if something happens after it was already referenced.

As a reminder, these episodes are in lieu of everything after "Christmas Party," hence no booze cruise, no reveals of Jim's secret… yet… :looks devious:

**Vacation Days**

Jim gripped the arms of his desk chair and released a soft, quick sigh. He stood up and shot a worried look into the camera: lips pressed tightly together, eyes wide and eyebrows pinching above his nose. He walked steadily toward Michael's door, paused with his hand above the knob, and finally went in.

"Howdy, Elwood."

"What… did you just call me?"

"Uh, El-wood. You remember... Jim Belushi played him in _The Blues Brothers_?" He switched into an old lady's voice. "'Are you the police?'" And then to a baritone. "'No, ma'am. We're musicians.'

"Get it? _Jim_ Belushi/_Jim_ Halpert…" The conviction in his voice faded as his joke lost steam. The two men both shifted uncomfortably in the encroaching silence.

"Actually, I think that was John Belushi, and Dan Aykroyd played the character of Elwood."

"Doesn't… matter. Is there something you want?"

"Did it take you all day to think of that reference?"

"No… Jim. I don't just sit in my office all day thinking up new nicknames to call my employees." He reached over and groped for his mouse, closing an Internet browser window.

"Listen, I just wanted to clear some vacation time with you. I've already run it by HR and Accounting, so—"

"So you came to the big cheese for the final decision. Your fate is in my hands. Excellent…," he said in his best Mr. Burns voice. "Will I bless you with my permission, or will I damn you with my disapproval?"

"Actually, since I've already received the go-ahead from HR weeks ago, it's pretty much a sure thing. I just want to let you know what days I won't be here. I've already arranged ahead of time with my cli—"

Michael's expression melted from amused to blank. His lips pursed, and he turned his head slightly to the side. "So HR's running the show around here now, huh? The boss is no longer 'the boss.'"

"That's not what I—"

"And I was so gracious to allow Toby his leave of absence."

Jim blinked. "He got married, Michael."

"And, in a way, I permitted that. So it's like I was their priest. Without all the altar boys and cookies." He leaned back in his desk chair, opening his hands wide before him.

Jim raised an eyebrow. "I think you mean wafers." Michael countered with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "So it's okay to take next week off, right?"

"Well, I don't—"

"Thanks, Michael," Jim said as he walked out the door. He breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him.

Michael sat there irritably for a few minutes, just staring at the door, before he rooted through a desk drawer. Beneath a pile of joke books, a whoopee cushion, and a miniature bullhorn was the Dunder-Mifflin corporate directory. He pulled it out, dragged his finger until he found the phone number he was looking for and picked up the phone. As he punched in a number and waited for the other line to pick up, he told the camera, "Power-hungry HR nerds think they can run this office, let's see them intimidate the un-intimidatable Michael Scott."

The phone continued ringing, and Michael hit the speakerphone button. "Dunder-Mifflin, Human Resources Department, this is Anna, how may I help you?" said a young woman in a sing-song voice.

"Anna, Anna Kournikova. I have you on my ceiling. You sound _hot_. Why don't you work in my office?"

"Who is this?" she asked curtly, flatly.

Michael grinned widely at the camera. "Uh, this is Michael Scott, Regional Manager of the Scranton Bank. Ha-ha, no, _branch_. I wish I owned a bank. Then I could just rob it and retire." There was silence. "I'm also, comedian, improv extraordinaire, and multimillionaire." There was a pause before Michael burst out laughing. "Kidding. About the millionaire part, well, yet. But soon I'll be up there with Dave Chapelle and Freddie Prinze, Jr. as a handsome, rich comedy legend."

More silence. "Is there something I can help the comedic genius with?" Anna said tightly.

Michael's face fell flat. He knitted his fingers together and seemed to be working out his next move. He decided on the direct, distant approach: "Yes, actually. I'd like to know who approved Jim Halpert's vacation time for this upcoming week."

There was a pause as Anna typed something and waited for the results. "I'm showing the days were approved from within your branch. Stamped two weeks ago."

"Toby!" Michael said in his best imitation of Jerry Seinfeld. When Anna didn't respond he added, "Toby's sort of the resident Newman around here. You know, like on _Seinfeld_. 'Hello, Jerry.' 'Hello, Newman.'" Still no response. "It's one of the classic comedies?"

"Have a good day, Mr. Scott."

"Yup, you—" But Anna had already hung up. Michael looked pitifully into the camera, and started making an airplane out of his desk calendar.

-----

"Are you suicidal?" Pam was waiting for Jim by his desk. She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Her eyes were bright with distress and confusion at his sudden disappearance into the boss' office.

Jim glanced into the camera, then to her hand, then to her face. "Whatever could she mean," he teased.

Her voice was low, but the message was clear: "Why would you go in to Michael's office unarmed?"

"I was not unarmed. I had the awesome power of five vacation days on my side."

Pam released his shoulder and stepped back. "You're taking a vacation?" she asked rather breathlessly. "When?"

"Next week. What's up?" He cocked his head to the side and concentrated carefully on her. She leaned back into his desk, half-sitting and teetering toward his monitor.

"Next… Oh, uh, you didn't tell me," she said. She reached down and grabbed the picture of Jim and his nephew. She traced the frame with her finger, her thumb glossing briefly, tentatively over his face. She put it back down.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. I mean—"

"Yeah, no, it's just… I'll be awfully bored without you."

Jim grinned stupidly. "Oh, I'll be bored without you too."

"Yeah right," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You'll be off lounging on some beach with bikini babes and piña coladas."

"Or with grizzled old men drinking fresh 'shine."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Boca Raton it is, huh?" He laughed. "Seriously, where to?"

Jim shifted away from her in his chair and tried to look busy. "Oh, uh, no where exciting, just Vermont."

"Vermont?" she said with surprise.

"Yeah, my family has a cabin up there in the mountains. I try to go at some point every year, but I haven't the last few because it's too far away from…" She stared intently at him. "You know what, I just missed the fresh air, I guess. Time for a change."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"Do you?" he said, and immediately his entire posture changed. Jim hunched over, started tapping piles of papers together and dropping stray pencils into his pencil cup while sweeping his eraser shavings onto Dwight's desk.

For a while they shared silence; neither moved to quit the conversation, but they didn't seem to have anything more to say. Finally, Pam angled her knees toward him. "I love hiking," she said offhandedly, or maybe not so, because she was eyeing him over the pencil she was busy twirling in her fingers.

"Oh, uh, maybe—" he cleared his throat "—maybe when you get some free time, like, when, you know, you don't have, um, so much to, uh, plan, we could make a Saturday or something of it… like in the Poconos. Not, like, overnight or anything of course," he hurriedly added.

"No, no. You're right. I totally forgot how much I have to do… and stay focused… All the phone calls I have to make."

"Good thing you're a receptionist. At least you'll sound really professional," Jim added lamely. "Yeah, but, you know, maybe sometime."

"Sometime would be fun. I love hiking."

"Déjà vu," he joked with a nod of assent at her.

Pam broke out in embarrassed laughter and said, "Yeah, well, just something to think about… then. Okay, I'm going back to the phone that never sleeps with the receptionist who does." She stood up from his desk and marched back to hers.

-----

Michael emerged from his office an hour after his phone call to corporate. He marched to the center of the room and put his hands on his hips. No one looked at him. He cleared his throat. Still he remained unnoticed, save by Dwight who narrowed his focus on his boss and only his boss. Finally, Michael said, "Attention, all Dunder-Mifflin funployees. Can I have your attention?"

"I'm on the phone," yelled Oscar irritably.

"Tell them you'll call them _back_. You're not going to want to miss this announcement."

"I think I am," Oscar growled under his breath, but he hung up anyway.

"I know we have a lot of fun here, and I know how you all consider me your best friend and confidant—" Employees took a moment to exchange suspicious and amused looks. "—but I think that the relaxed, comedic atmosphere I've created has given you all the false impression that I am not really in charge.

"As a measure to take back the high-ranking seat I must unfortunately occupy as your superior, I have come up with an important new policy. Starting today, all use of the bathroom must be approved by me prior to… you know, going." The employees shared looks of disbelief, and a soft murmur cascaded over the room. Michael looked around under his heavy eyelids as he gauged the atmosphere of the room.

Creed gnawed on a pen and narrowed his eyes. "Who came up with this ridiculous idea?"

-----

"The bathroom policy? Hunh, the worker bees left this queen bee no choi—no, er, wait, _king_ bee, this king bee no choice. I had to demonstrate to my crew that I'm the head of this gang, and if we were on the streets, like when I was with the Damn Rascals, if you don't show respect to your leader, then I have to beat you with a bag full of oranges… or shoot your grandmother. Naturally you'd want to take the lesser of two evils. So what I think I illustrated for them today was true mercy. I mean, I could have shot their grandmothers."

-----

Michael pressed his hands together and then pointed toward Jim's desk. "Well, Jim was the one who came to me today and showed me how little you people truly respect my position as boss, so, in a way, Jim did."

Everybody stared hard at Jim until he threw up his hands. "No way you're pinning this on me."

"But also corporate," Michael quickly added, "because the idea came out of my head and I am corporate, so that means it's their idea. Plus, they promoted me to this position, so they expect to see a line maintained."

"Pfft, what line?" Oscar grumbled to his accounting team, but they were either too stunned to reply or they were keeping a hands-off policy on the subject.

"Now, this is for everybody's own good. It's to teach you control and respect."

"How are we to respect someone who won't let us go to the bathroom whenever we need to?" Stanley asked.

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but the answer seemed to allude him. He looked to Dwight for help, who eagerly perked up under his mentor's gaze. "Well… Explain it to them, Dwight."

Dwight stood up and raised one finger. "First thing, you learn the meaning of discipline, which I find sorely lacking in this office. When you can't do all the trivial things you use to avoid work, you get more things done in a more expedient manner. Going to the bathroom, for example, is not a necessity, it's a privilege."

"It's a necessity," Kevin said with a long, slow nod.

Dwight completely ignored him and raised two fingers. "Secondly, you learn a measure of self-control. I don't know how many times I've searched your desk drawers only to find hidden stashes of candy bars and _Playboy_s, Creed."

"You did _what_ exactly?" Creed said angrily.

He raised a third finger. "Lastly, you will learn respect for your superiors through the first two points. Michael giveth, and he can taketh away. By limiting your freedom, he is offering you so much more: a chance at a more disciplined, rewarding life."

By the end of Dwight's ridiculous speech, most of the employees had gone back to work, except for Creed, who was eyeing him vengefully, and Pam, who rested her head in her hand.

Michael checked the looks on the others and assumed an irritated face. "God, Dwight, I wasn't looking for your personal version of _Mein Kampf_.

"The point is that I am in charge of this team, and I expect to have a detailed time and frequency record of all your trips to the bathroom."

Dwight's arm shot up, his hand waving frantically in the air, even though he was standing directly beside his boss. "Can I be time-keeper, Michael?" he asked eagerly.

"Uh, yes, Dwight. I think you'd be perfect for the job."

"I won't let you down, sir."

Kevin raised her hand. "But, Michael, what if it's an emergency?"

"Run fast to my office." With that, their boss disappeared into the safety of his own room.

-----

Jim and Pam sat in the conference room before the cameraman. They were laughing and Pam was shaking her head. His hand clutched her chair's armrest, and her hand rested right beside his, their fingers barely touching. The camera zoomed in on it. Pam noticed the camera and abruptly moved her hand to her lap.

She looked up and said, "So Michael instituted this new policy that you can't go to the bathroom without asking him first. It's worse than the time Dwight tried to ban the girls from their bathroom."

"In trying to understand his logic in creating this plan, we've come up with only one conclusion." Jim nodded for his partner to take over.

"He's loco in his cabasa."

"Ooh, good use of the high school Spanish, Pam."

"No applause necessary," she said with a bow.

"So to prove that we are more capable than he thinks, we've created these chic badges to illustrate a point." They pulled out two circles of paper with tape on them and attached them to their chests. Pam reached over and straightened Jim's. "Thank you," he said with a soft smile. She nodded and showcased her badge with one hand, a la Vanna White.

The badges read, "Going potty on my own since age 3."

"Nice," said Jim, glancing at Pam's badge. "Going to wear yours down the aisle? That'd make Roy really proud."

"Oh? And what about you, Halpert? Bet you get _all_ the ladies with an achievement like that. Who doesn't want an accomplished man?"

They shared broad grins before casually removing them and simultaneously throwing them in the trash. Jim sunk his shot from across the room, but Pam's fell short. "We need to work on your free throw," he teased.

She nodded solemnly at the camera, though her eyes were alight with happiness.

-----

Dwight was already up and moving for supplies for his time-keeping chart when he overheard Oscar griping to the other accounting people. "This is just stupid. I'm not telling Michael when I have to use the restroom."

"You have to," Dwight said, leaning over their desks. "The chief says."

"Okay, he's not a chief of anything," Oscar insisted. "He's being ridiculous."

"I'm not telling him when I have to… when I need to use the lavatory," Angela insisted with a firm crossing of her arms.

Dwight shared an intense stare with her. "I'm afraid I have to stand by the boss' ruling on this one." He drew a box in black magic marker on a large white sheet of poster board and wrote Angela's name in it. Her arms remained crossed, her glower deepened, and she thrummed her fingers methodically on her arm. Dwight's hand trembled as he finished the last "A" so it looked like "Angeld."

-----

Kelly appeared beside Jim. At first, he didn't seem to notice her—or want to notice her—as he kept his eyes focused on a report on his desk, but eventually her tapping foot caught his attention. He looked up, his eyes wide with the question, "What are you doing here?"

She plopped into Dwight's empty chair and scooted right next to him, her knees bumping the side of his seat. "So who are you going on vacation with?"

Jim looked over at Pam, but she didn't seem to be listening; she was busy touching up her chipped polish. "Uh… why does it matter?"

Kelly swiveled the chair around and kneeled backwards in it. "Oh, I don't know. It's just a cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere."

"It's a family cabin."

"Ew, gross," she exclaimed. "You're going with family? That's totally not what I expected from you."

"Well, I'm not going with family, and—wait. Why wouldn't you expect that from me?"

"Just that you date that super hot Katy for a while, dump her conveniently before Toby's wedding—" Jim looked hot under the collar. He risked a glance at reception again, and although Pam wasn't looking, she didn't seem to be doing anything other than leaning mysteriously in their direction. "—show up with that knockout, Selene, leave with her. I mean, what are we supposed to think, Jim?"

He took a deep breath. "Why would it be weird to go with family on my vacation."

"Well, duh. I mean, it is a cabin in the woods. All cozy and there's only one room, nothing but mountains around you, whispering trees, wildflowers everywhere. And at night, when it's nice and cold, you get the girl all spooked that there's maybe an axe murderer on the loose, and you snuggle up close in front of a fire on one blanket to protect her. You make a noise like there's someone outside, and you're like, 'Did you hear that?' And I'm like, 'I don't want to die.' And I'm in your arms, and the next thing you know, you're making sure that if it's your last time, it's the best time." Jim sat open-mouthed, staring at Kelly. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"So," she continued relentlessly, "who are you going with?"

"You know what? I think I hear your cell phone ringing."

"How do you know it's mine?"

"Uh, isn't your ringtone 'My Humps?'"

"Oh my god, it is my phone." Kelly took off running for her purse.

Moments later she was walking into the break room, phone in her hand, boisterously saying, "Oh my god, I was just talking about you!"

Jim gave her a disapproving look before continuing his work. He didn't notice Pam as she stared at him from behind her counter.

-----

Stanley dropped his pencil and stood up from his desk. As he headed toward the break room, he was stopped with a palm to the chest by Dwight. "Where do you think you're going, Stanley?"

He swatted Dwight's hand away irritably and tried to continue walking, but Dwight was persistent and blocked him again. Stanley sighed and sucked in his cheeks. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm headed to the bathroom."

"Your business is my business," he said with firm nod. "Did you clear it with Michael first?"

"My bladder does not need his stamp of approval." Stanley pushed him to the side and continued his steady walk.

Dwight raced ahead of him and blocked the men's room door with his whole body. "I'm afraid I can't allow you in here without prior permission from Michael," he said through gasps.

Stanley offered his distinctive glare—lower lip puffed out, left eyebrow raised, eyes focused—and pushed into the women's room. "You can't go in there!" Dwight yelped desperately.

"Anyone in here?" Stanley asked, and when he received no answer, he disappeared.

Dwight wiped his hands on his pants, paced back and forth, and waited for coworker to emerge. He looked nervously into the camera. Finally, Stanley reemerged and walked on as though there was no one in front of him. Dwight intercepted him, however, and pointed a finger in his face. "I'm going to have to write you up for insubordination, Stanley. You refused a direct order from—"

Stanley wiped a wet hand on Dwight's shoulder. "Oops, still got some on me."

Dwight stumbled out of the way with a repulsed look on his face. He looked down an the damp stain on the white shoulder of his short-sleeve dress shirt. Stanley walked back to his seat and smiled happily.

-----

Stanley stared curiously at the camera. He had yet to really sit in the confessional room, and he eyed the situation very carefully. "Oh, that? That was nothing. I washed my hands and left one of them damp. Some days it's best to fight fire with… water."

-----

Dwight came through the main office door in a bright green sweater with white pom-poms and a smiling snowman in the center. The camera zoomed in on it, and he frowned sadly. He walked out into the office, and all eyes turned to him. There were a few sniggers as he flopped into his seat.

Phyllis swiveled around and said, "Hey, that's the sweater I knitted for Angela two Christmases ago. She said she lost it. Where'd you find that?"

-----

Dwight had grabbed Angela and brought her into the break room. Their microphones were turned off, but it was obvious Angela was angry at him for bodily removing her in front of the other employees because she was yelling and pointing dramatically.

He gestured frantically toward the shoulder of his shirt, and she took a step back. She calmed down enough to point him in the direction of the elevator, and he flew out of the room quick as lightning.

-----

Down in the warehouse, Dwight pushed a few boxes aside until he found one labeled "Purchase Orders – 1998." He extracted the green sweater, eyed it discriminatingly and stripped off his old shirt. Darryl, who had been walking by the aisle, made a disgusted face before walking away as though he'd never seen anything.

-----

Dwight wheeled beside Jim and whispered conspiratorly to him, "I hear you're playing house in the mountains with some hottie next week."

Jim leaned his head against his fingertips. "Who exactly did you hear that from?"

"Oh, there's been talk. Believe me, there's been talk."

"Dwight, _why_ would anyone care who I went on vacation with?"

Noticing that Jim didn't care to whisper, Dwight resumed his normal tone. "Why would anyone care who _I_ went on vacation with?"

"Nobody would, Dwight."

"So tell me… Is it true? Is she as hot as Pam?"

Jim simply shook his head in evident frustration and ignored his deskmate.

Dwight slowly nodded as a grin spread across his face. "Lucky."

-----

"Yes, I'm going on vacation. I don't see why everyone is making such a big deal out of this. It's not like it's the most amazing thing that's ever happened."

-----

It was nearing the end of the day, and Michael came out of his office with an expectant twinkle in his eyes. He surveyed the room but found no employees seemed to notice his presence. He walked over to Dwight's desk when he stopped and sniffed the air. "What smells like old milk?" Dwight kept his head down. "So how's the recording going?"

"Actually, I've come up against quite a bit of resistance from a number of employees, Michael. It seems nobody in this office respects authority."

"Well, it's just because they don't expect your authority. I'm sure if I were doing this, people would take to it like a cat to water."

Dwight raised an eyebrow but decided not to argue. "I guess this is enough of an exercise for the day. Excuse me, underlings." Michael stopped to laugh. "I have another announcement to make."

"What idiotic rule are you going to make up now?" Stanley groaned.

"See?" Michael said, pointing to Stanley. "This is exactly the kind of disrespect I would expect toward Dwight, not toward your revered boss, so I understand that comment was not directed toward me." Stanley put his head in his hand and then resumed finishing up his work for the day.

"Look," Michael continued obliviously, "I think I've made my position in the office pretty clear here, so tomorrow we'll go back to the way things were. You've all learned your lesson. See you… tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed." Pam rolled her eyes and Jim chuckled softly.

After Michael disappeared into the back room, Pam approached Jim's desk. She bumped his chair with her hip so he swung around to face her. His hand brushed her knee, and she leaned into it ever so slightly. His fingertips held there for a moment, his eyes focused directly on them. Pam noticed his stare and she allowed herself a brief grin before stepping back. "I can't believe you're going to throw me to the wolves all next week for some stinky old cabin."

Jim caught her gaze and held it. "Yeah, well, I can't believe I can't take you with me." She offered him a shy smile and then she looked away. Once he had a moment to think about what he'd said, he pursed his lips and seemed worried. "Uh, that is, the place is already full anyway."

Pam looked quizzically at him. "Full?"

"Yeah, with my friend coming and all."

"Your friend? I thought you were…" She trailed off and looked away uncomfortably.

"No, yeah, I'm not going alone. I mean, I'm not a total loser, you know." Jim rubbed the back of his head. He seemed so awkward, so unsure of what he was saying. He looked everywhere but at Pam.

She started to walk away from his desk, her shoulders slumped and her hand twirling her necklace nervously. "I never said you were," she said softly.

"Pam… I really will miss you." She stopped mid-step and smiled to herself. Jim couldn't see her face, but he allowed himself one smile too.

She turned around and shrugged. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes," he said with a nod, "you will."


	2. Episode Guide

This story is the first in a series of fanfics starring the cast of _The Office_ (US). These are all of my own design, but I may borrow some dialogue or important moments from the show to try and keep as parallel to the ongoing storyline as possible. I will add a chapter like this to the end of every fic and update them so you'll always be able to follow the sequence, otherwise some of the jokes and situations may not make sense.

"Episodes" so far:

"The Wedding" – 1.11.06 – Toby's getting remarried, and the impending wedding has ramifications for the whole office. General wackiness ensues.

"Employee of the Month" – 1.23.06 – Jim receives the title of Employee of the Month, much to Dwight's chagrin, and Michael attempts to de-stress with a trip to the spa.

"Vacation Days" – 2.05.06 - When Jim readies to take a vacation, rumors fly about with whom he is going. Meanwhile, Michael institutes a new bathroom policy that puts him at the top of a power pyramid.


End file.
